


The Doctor and The Dancer

by Cas_thePizzaMan



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: AU, Ballet Mary, Ballet Sherlock, Doctor John, Johnlock - Freeform, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cas_thePizzaMan/pseuds/Cas_thePizzaMan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a cute little story about Sherlock being a dancer and letting out a bit of his interest for the ballet company's Dr. Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Doctor and The Dancer

"Doctor, Mary fell. Again," Sherlock said sounding disgusted at the fact.

He walked into Doctor Watson's mini clinic that was in the back of the studio, carrying Mary. She looked weightless in his arms as he strode across the wooden floor as gracefully as he would dancing. 

Dr. Watson turned around and even though he knew Sherlock was displeased with her, smiled and welcomed her. "Hey there Mary. Let's take a look; hopefully you didn't hurt yourself too bad." She motioned for Sherlock to set her on the table.

"It's not as bad as people think. I might've just rolled my ankle." Mary sighed. "Madame Hudson freaked out and had Mr. Holmes bring me to you. I'm fine, really…" She tried to reassure him, but as soon as he moved her ankle, she screeched in pain. Dr. Watson gave her a skeptical look. "Okay, maybe I'm not fine. But I can still dance right?"

"Like you could ever danced to begin with," Sherlock scoffed.

Dr. Watson looked at him, furrowed his brow, shook his head, and looked at Mary. "Of course you'll still dance Mary. Just not today or tomorrow; maybe about a week or so," he said, trying to give her a reassuring smile.

He knew dancing was the reason to breathe for these people, this is what had kept them going as children. Telling them they couldn't dance, even for a short week, was like telling them they were terminally ill.

"A week?" She asked like the wind had been knocked out of her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "A week-okay. I better tell Madame Hudson."

"I'm a wrap it first, then you're free to go."

Sherlock sighed and crossed his arms. When Dr. Watson was finished, she held out her arms for Sherlock to come and get her, but Dr. Watson jumped in.

"You can use these,"he said handing her a pair of crutches. "You can bring them back when the week is over."

Mary smiled and went over to Dr. Watson, kissing his cheek. "Thanks John," she said and left the room.

John touch his cheek, which was now bright red. When he saw Sherlock standing in the corner he jumped.

"Oh, Sherlock. What are you still doing here? You could've gone back anytime."

Sherlock just stared at him with a confused look on his face. "What?" John asked, feeling as confused as Sherlock looked.

"Your name is John?" He asked.

"Yes. My name is John. What did you think it was?"

Sherlock just looked at them. "And you and Mary? Your, what, a thing?"

Why does he care? John thought. He doesn't even know me. "No. Or at least not to my knowledge. Why do you ask?" John asked trying to make conversation. Sherlock didn't seem to like the idea of conversation, for he look extremely uncomfortable.

"Well she just kissed you. Isn't that how humans express their emotions to each other? Through physical actions?"

John grand, "Yes, I suppose that's how humans express their emotions, but I'm sure she was just thanking me. Besides, I would never get involved with the dancer."

John turned around and began organizing medical supplies on the counter.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked. His mind was telling him to shut up and get back to rehearsal, but he couldn't help himself from asking questions. This Dr. John Watson intrigue him. For what reason, he did not know."

"Because dancers are married to their work, and I'm also being passionate about one's work, but I need someone who is passionate about me as well. Dancers, well, dancers don't have that quality," John answered and found himself wondering why he was answer his questions at all. He barely knew that Sherlock character.

Sherlock took what he just said in the consideration and nodded. "I suppose that is true," he said simply and turned to the door. "Good day, Doctor."

"Good day, Mr. Holmes," he said slowly. Had Sherlock Holmes just spoke to him? The Sherlock Holmes would never said a word to anyone unless it was to criticize or insult them?

John pulled his lab coat straight and and pulled it straight. His confidence was definitely boosted a kiss and a mechanical man had seemed sort of human to him. He could help feeling special.


End file.
